


A Hundred Golden Urns

by lilybluee



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Kind of fluffy, M/M, kind of soft, some Greek mythology references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17399435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilybluee/pseuds/lilybluee
Summary: Hoseok's boss comes to visit once. Changkyun has been lovestruck since.





	1. maybe it's a blessing in disguise

✦✧✦ 

 

Changkyun always imagined falling in love to be a gentle thing, honey sweet and careful slips in the unknown parts of the deep folds of the heart. Cool cloths on feverish foreheads, mothers’ blessings on early mornings to kick off the day, dissolving candy on the tongue, sweet and sour, but mostly sweet sweet sweet.

Falling in love for Changkyun felt like a freak accident, a sudden wail of the brakes as the vehicle swirled in air in one, two turns and crashed hard into the asphalt. It wrecked him.

Hyunwoo wrecked Changkyun on initial eye contact. Changkyun had audibly gasped and turned to Jooheon and whispered: _honey, we’re gonna die, the apocalypse is here, the angels are here, honey hyung I love you I love you I love yo-_ , and Jooheon had to slap a hand on his mouth and hiss in his face to _shut the fuck up_ _that’s my brother’s boss you fool_.

Anyway, Changkyun thinks he’s a liar, because how can a mere creature of Mother Earth look like-

Look like _that_?

What fountain of Eternal Youth did he drink from? What gift was he offered from the Fae folks for those looks? What is happening?

“Jooney, Joohoney, hyung, honey hyung, honey fucking hyung-”

“Shut it Changkyun,” Jooheon says in a surprisingly calm voice and stirs the pasta. Calm always screams danger, so Changkyun truly and honestly shuts his mouth. Instead he snakes his arms around Jooheon’s waist and squeezes until Jooheon swats at him with the spatula and threatens to guillotine off his head.

“Guillotines are no longer a part of the twenty first century.”

“Then I’ll make one from scratch. What’s getting into you? Hormones or some shit like that?” Jooheon asks him once he turns off the stove. “Get it treated or else brother and I are kicking you out.”

Changkyun tusks, shakes his head. “It’s called love, honey, have you never heard of it? Oh right, you probably haven’t, how long has it been since your last girlfriend?”

Hoseok prevents them from burning down the house, the wonderful big brother he is, swerving them from doom every second of every minute of every hour of every day. One would think maturity would hit once they turn nineteen and plus.

“You two better keep it down or I’ll auction you off for free.”

Jooheon returns to his pasta so Changkyun finds his chance and asks away. “Hoseokkie hyung, who was that person you had in the living room? He’s quite the unfamiliar one, I’ve never seen him before.”

Hoseok, dressed in casual Hello Kitty pjs that Changkyun had gifted him for his twenty sixth birthday, puts his black hair up in a small bun, ever so spiteful at the rigid company policies. He could be now rocking a vibrant red; _look Changkyun I just bathed in the blood of my enemies, isn’t it cool?_

“Are you perhaps- dating?”

Hoseok frowns into his water bottle. “Satan’s butthole No, he’s my boss and I work under him,” he shudders. “I can’t imagine the drama.”

They flock together around the kitchen’s table and Jooheon serves them dinner.

“We’re very good friends though, he’s very kind, never overworks us to death, strict when it needs be, and honestly I’m glad he’s my boss. I’ve met some horrible asses before, terrible evil folks, so grateful is what I am. Give me your hand.”

The table is small and round. The three of them close their eyes and pray before their meal. Changkyun isn’t that religious, but he still likes doing this very much. _Always be grateful for what you have_ , Hoseok would say, _it makes life easier_.

 “Why are you asking about him?” Jooheon queries with a mouthful of pasta.

Changkyun shrugs. “Just curious.”

“You’re being awfully suspicious, Changkyun.”

“And you’re being awfully nosy, Jooheon.”

“And I have every right to be, after that time you hid an opossum under my bed and I nearly went into seizure.”

Changkyun puffs into his sleeve and pretends to be coughing. Jooheon had made Changkyun share the bed with him for two continuous months, the bedside lamps always on, golden and shushing the darkness away. Hoseok had laughed and called them cute. He’d also scolded Changkyun’s ears clean for causing the poor animal distress.

“Whatever,” Jooheon says, “just don’t involve me in your shit, I wasn’t put on earth to have _‘Changkyun’s accomplice’_ stamped on my forehead.”

“Why were you put on earth then?” Changkyun asks back. He notices Hoseok watching Jooheon carefully.

Jooheon’s eyes kind of widen. He stares at Hoseok, at Changkyun, then back to the table. He gulps down his cup of water and runs upstairs.

Hoseok sighs out the weight of the whole galaxy. “I can’t believe you induced him into another existential crisis. Do the dishes then go fix him.” Hoseok ruffles affectionately Changkyun’s hair. “I’m going to bed, good night Changkyunnie.”

“Good night Woonie, love you.”

Hoseok smiles and stands up. “Love you too.”

 

 

Changkyun and Jooheon are brothers.

Well, except maybe for the sharing blood part, they are true brothers, unified when Jooheon was one year old and Changkyun was still in the womb. That’s the usual outcome of two best friend moms, houses side by side until the time they all moved in together in a whole different city. Changkyun’s father has been dead long before Changkyun was born, lung cancer caught at its last stage. Jooheon’s father is a different case, but unfortunate all the same. He was abusive to his mother, and thankfully she got her divorce.

So you get a widowed mom and a divorced mom moving in together, establishing a family with all the right conditions to raise their children. Changkyun has had an amazing childhood, and he isn’t ashamed to say he has two moms and two non-blood related brothers.

He finds Jooheon zoned out on bed, his stars light projector drowning the room in sparkling darkness. Changkyun closes the door carefully behind him, takes slow, soft steps until he reaches the bed and nuzzles to Jooheon’s side.

Jooheon is still unmoving.

“Honey, hey, I was just joking.”

He gets no response, so Changkyun plants his face in Jooheon’s ribcage, palm flat on his tummy.

“Come on, there are all kind of reasons you’re here, alive and sane, or at least half-sane. I’m sorry-”

“Sometimes I keep wondering, whenever I’m reading a book or watching movies and TV shows, I keep wondering, is this all a waste of time? Should I be doing something more productive? What the hell am I doing, sitting useless and wasting away my youth?”

“Hey, that’s your capitalistic side talking.” Changkyun tries to tickle him, but he gets nothing. He’s bummed out about it. “It’s okay to take time for yourself. It’s okay to do nothing, to just sit down and enjoy fiction in all its forms. That’s self-care, and we worship self-care in this household. Sorry I don’t make the rules, Hoseokkie hyung does.”

“You know what,” Jooheon says, turning to Changkyun, “you’re absolutely right. Fuck capitalism, I’ll be taking all the time in the world to take care of myself and enjoy my evening coffee with my brothers.” He smiles wide and Changkyun hurries to put a hand on the dimple. It’s too cute. His friend’s dimpled smile, Namjoon, comes to mind. That’s got to be on his tombstone, dead from the onslaught of dimples. Lucky him Hoseok doesn’t have one; he would’ve been massacred.

“Aww honey honey, I’m so proud of you,” Changkyun says in his whiny voice and trashes Jooheon around like a rag doll.

The stars kind of glow stronger. It was a gift from Hoseok, when Jooheon and Changkyun first moved in with him away from home. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of tears, their moms crying because their lasts two sons are finally leaving for college, and they’ll be left alone. It had pained Changkyun’s heart so much he’d cried himself to sleep for a whole week.  

“If I get rich one day, I’ll be donating all my money to charities and associations, I’ll be paying the tuitions to all those in need, we’re lucky our parents were able to aid us in paying for college.”

“So like, a Sugar Daddy,” Changkyun says.

Jooheon grimaces. “Why must you be like this?”

“I’m just providing the term to your definition.”

Jooheon jolts up so fast he almost knocks head first into Changkyun’s jaw. His eyes are wide.

“So that’s what it was all about.”

Changkyun doesn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

“Hoseokkie’s boss.”

Okay, so maybe he does understand. Jooheon’s eyes grow bigger still.

“I can’t believe you have him in your sights. He’s thirty three, you animal. Fourteen fucking years your senior!”

Changkyun shrugs. “I’m nineteen, I’m legal, and I’m an adult. Honey, you worry too much.”

Jooheon keeps shaking his head. It’s strangely endearing, with the frightened doe eyes.

“I’m telling Hoseokkie.”

“Hell no, you are _not_.”

Changkyun wrestles Jooheon to the bed before he could take a step towards the door. He puts Jooheon in a chokehold and Jooheon keeps slapping his arm.

“Can’t-C-Can’t breathe, let go, fuck,” Jooheon chokes out before he dives his elbow into Changkyun’s ribs and quickly throws him off. Changkyun screeches weakly, like a mouse snatched in the sharp claw of an eagle.

Two minutes later, they lay side by side on bed, breathing hard and watching their inner starry sky.

“I just remembered that your last boyfriend was twenty seven, and the one before him was twenty eight,” Jooheon says.

“Congratulations, you just cracked the code.”

Changkyun can hear the disdain in Jooheon’s voice. “Older men, really? What’s wrong with guys your age? What’s wrong with Kihyun or Namjoon, or even Minhyuk?”

“Kihyun is straight as a ramrod and Namjoon is taken. Minhyuk and I are gay best friends so clock him off. Any other suitors?”

“Uhh,” Jooheon says and flaps his body around like a fish, stomach to bed and face buried in his pillow. “I get so worried about you Changkyunnie, sometimes my stomach hurts and my fingers itch. Please, stay safe. Men are fucking scary.”

Changkyun rubs Jooheon’s back, and when he feels like that’s not enough (honestly, he could throw himself to the sharks to show his gratitude and that still wouldn’t be enough), he places his cheek between Jooheon’s shoulder blades and sings him the song their mom used to hum on early mornings while tending to house chores, her skirt flowy and layered, the smell of cookies and snickerdoodles draping the house in sweetness that washes over them in nostalgic waves.

Changkyun holds Jooheon’s hand, says, “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

Jooheon squeezes back.

 

 

See, Changkyun fully intended to drop this all together, if anything just to please Jooheon and simmer down some of his worries, to turn his full gaze to guys around his age and forget the madness that is middle-aged men (or so Hoseok likes to call it, Changkyun begs to differ, that is no madness, that is merely a matter of taste). But like everything he sets his mind to, it doesn’t flow smoothly like sand through knuckles, it doesn’t save him the trouble of over-sweating in heaving efforts, whether physical or mental. It’s like life is against him (or on his side?), and the idea of upgrading his taste is heinously offensive.

Changkyun blames it on Hoseok. And his boss. And his friendship with his boss. Jesus Christ.

“When I was just a freshman, Hyunwoo was already a senior, graduating in less than a year. I was failing my chemistry classes, and none of my friends could help me since we were taking different courses. He-” Pink warmth seeps to Hoseok’s cheeks.

“I found him crying on the fourth floor of the building. You were awfully quiet and for a second I thought you were a ghost.” Hyunwoo’s voice feels like honey, or better yet it feels like dark chocolate, the deep bitter type, the type that lingers on Changkyun’s taste buds and cascades to his brain, rich and intoxicating.

Jooheon is giving him The Look across the table. The _you-better-rein-in-your-horses_ Look. Changkyun knows it all too well. The table is shaped as a circle, Hoseok on his left, Hyunwoo on his right.

(Hyunwoo on his right)

Changkyun munches on his fries.

“- I couldn’t just leave you like that. I absolutely felt the need to help.”

“Thank you Hyunwoo for tutoring me. I’m glad we found each other again after- how many years has it been?”

Hyunwoo shifts just the bare minimum and his cologne infests Changkyun’s nostrils like wasps and bees. It doesn’t sting; it’s more like a woody fragrance with notes of oak moss and mint.

“Six years, I believe.”

Changkyun needs a distraction, so even with Jooheon’s panicked eyes on him, he still opens his mouth and blurts the first thing that crosses his mind.

“Shouldn’t you never be friends with your boss? Isn’t that like, the unspoken number one rule across the globe?”

“ _Changkyun_ ,” Jooheon hisses, but it’s kind of late, and now three pairs of eyes are on him. If Changkyun could become one with the floor, he would, in a heartbeat, in a microsecond, in the fucking speed of light.

Hoseok has the Disappointed face on, and Changkyun wants to cry. His hoseokkie hyung is disappointed with him, which feels like a trip with bare feet on sharp needles. He’s bloody and sorry and he needs to apologize.

Someone laughs on his right.

Correction: Hyunwoo laughs on his right.

Changkyun finally looks at Hyunwoo (he couldn’t do so the whole duration of their dinner). The rich taste on his tongue thickens. Hyunwoo’s tanned skin is the smoothest thing his gaze could slide on, sharp bone structure and warm eyes reflecting light.

“That is actually true, it’s usually best to not befriend your boss, but Hoseok and I are an exception. We were already acquainted, past college friends. Seeing him again is such a delight.”

Hoseok smiles and Changkyun just about deflates like a popped balloon when Hyunwoo tousles his hair, then says, “Clever boy.”

Changkyun looks down to where his hands rest on his lap, lightly shaking. His appetite is failing him. He thinks about apologizing still, but gives up in fear any Dumbasseries escape his big fat mouth. Instead he wonders how long he can go with unwashed hair before Jooheon starts threatening to dump a bucket on him.

 

 

“Honey, did you see him? He touched my hair and called me _clever boy_.”

“Yes, I did. I was literally right there with you.”

“I wanted him to call me _clever man_.”

Jooheon sighs.

 

 

Jooheon’s theory isn’t right, but it isn’t exactly false either. Changkyun’s brain didn’t scream Sugar Daddy Material when he first saw Hyunwoo, maybe a little later in the safety of his room and in the safety of the dark nooks of his mind, but initially, Changkyun wanted to make Hyunwoo his boyfriend, his significant other, his partner in crime in case one of them murder someone (the one to avenge him in case Jooheon murders him).

Changkyun isn’t psychic, but something about Hyunwoo is absolutely enchanting, his aura pure and ethic, feeling almost holy and deserving of worship. The simplest way to explain it is that Hyunwoo is pleasant to be around, pleasant to hear, pleasant to look at. Changkyun thinks it’s criminally unfair that he only gets to see him once a week, on a Sunday no less when he has to cram in all his assignments for school.

But at least he gets a chance to see him at all, and each time, he stumbles on stray branches and into gaps that seem to grow deeper and deeper.

Hyunwoo also notices him more, turns to his side, entertains Changkyun’s thoughts and add bits of his own, says: _that is absolutely true, can you talk more about it_? And Changkyun gets a whoosh of heat, striking in its intensity, but soothed by Hoseok’s encouraging face.

And so they talk and debate the living hell out of whatever they’re discussing at the time. Jooheon retreats to his room, tired and drained, and sometimes Hoseok does too, that is too much energy to keep up with, and then they’re left alone to their animated talking, agreeing then disagreeing ( _‘no offense but that is such an utopian reality you’re speaking of,_ ’ Changkyun would say, followed by:   _‘Please refrain from crushing my ideals, I am but an old man,’_ before their laughter would erupt in the hollowed corridor). It keeps like this until Changkyun finds himself sucked into a pit so deep he can barely see the surface.

Jooheon and Hyungwon he turns to.

“Have you seen the stars? They have Hyunwoo carved into them. Have you seen the early spring buds? They bloom for Hyunwoo and fill the air with their earthy fragrance. It’s what he deserves. I see we should make the sun Hyunwoo’s face, for he is contagiously warm and I yearn to be blessed by the touch of his flames and the good omen his smile seems to bring in.”

Hyungwon gives Jooheon a very concerned look. “Has he caught a fever?”

“I don’t know, he’s been like this since early this morning, something about a text message my brother’s boss sent him,” Jooheon says, worried just as much.

Hyungwon takes the phone from Changkyun’s hand. Changkyun hardly reacts, his eyes still glued to the kitchen’s ceiling. He’s sitting on a chair while Jooheon and Hyungwon are standing over him.

Jooheon doesn’t hesitate to decode Changkyun’s phone and goes to his received messages.

 

 **NuNu the Sun**  
I asked Hoseok for your number.  
I hope you don’t mind.  
Talking with you is always a pleasure so I hope we’ll get to resume our discussions by text.  
:)

 

“That smiley face is horribly sinister, this is how I imagine serial killers trapping in their victims. Are you sure this is your brother’s boss?” Hyungwon asks with his eyes skimming over the message.

Jooheon bites his nails, his number one dreaded nervous habit. “I don’t know, I’ll have to ask Hoseok.” He steps closer to Changkyun and cups his cheeks.

“Kyunnie, hey Kyunnie.”

He doesn’t answer. Jooheon taps gently his temples. “Wake the fuck up.”

That seems to bring him back. His eyes bore into Jooheon’s. “You is a fool and me is a idiot and us is in doom, amen.”

Jooheon sneers. “Use proper english, you illiterate imbécile.” He slaps Changkyun’s cheek just as a precautionary measure.

“Hurts!”

Hyungwon, relieved, sits down on a chair. “And here I thought we’d lost you forever.”

Changkyun is still massaging his cheek, which stings like fuck and he vows to get back at Jooheon, maybe slip some earthworms in his shoes. “I’m lost in the deep caves that are his eyes, hollowed and oceanic in their profundity, cradling the secrets of the Universe like a mother hen-”

“Jooney let’s go,” Hyungwon cuts him off, scrambling to leave the house, Jooheon close behind. The loud thud of a closed door echoes in the hall.

Changkyun sits alone in the kitchen.

He still has a lot of feelings in him, he notices. His hands are shaking uncontrollably. He takes his phone.

 

 **changkyun**  
anyway  
as I was saying

 

 **hyungwonnie**  
Jesus FUCKING Christ  
i’ll block you

 

 

So, Changkyun never intended for things to develop this _fast_ , and by fast he means the block of wall texts they exchange while expanding on theories and abstract matters of space (Hyunwoo seems particularly invested in extraterrestrial life), as well as the occasional outside coffee trips and the early morning runs at the break of dawn, all in the matter of one month.

Changkyun knows Hoseok is aware of his little expeditions with Hyunwoo, so he takes it as a good sign no reprimanding or earfuls have come his way yet, _yet_ being the keyword. He still hasn’t attempted anything that could shake this fragile truce. In other words, he still hasn’t attempted confessing, and though he might have come close many times (read: Hyunwoo standing close to the beach waves, panting from the run, gorgeous under the heated sun rays. Read: Hyunwoo seated on the café’s terrace, attentive and mindful to everything Changkyun says. Read: Hyunwoo looking at him, as in _looking_ at him, half-smiles and perfect angular face, wicked cruel prince), his self-restrain keeps tugging him back in place.

_Think about what you’ll be saying to Hoseok, don’t be reckless._

It’s exhilarating, kaleidoscopic excitement because of the unknown, because Changkyun’s mouth lacks shackles, and his words tumble out, unfiltered and raw, betraying his emotions. Hyunwoo takes them all in, sucks them in like a sponge.

“Odysseus had Goddess Athena as a guardian and had Witch-Goddess Circe giving him free access to her bed, not to forget his ever faithful wife Penelope who kept shooting down suitors. I call him lucky bastard,” Changkyun says, cappuccino warm in his hands.

“I call him unfortunate soul. Did you forget how he’d lost his mind once he’d made it back home from that voyage that lasted ten years?” Hyunwoo argues back.

“Well, that’s on him. I feel bad for his son Telemachus. With all stories of Oh Great Odysseus and his Oh Great victories across the seas, the disappointment must have stung like fuuuuck when he met his father for the first time in years, bewitched and cruel, murdering innocent servant girls.”  Changkyun takes a sip from his mug, and the warmth that fills him truly feels like a hug.

Hyunwoo smiles. Changkyun considers it another win. Making Hyunwoo smile is a game and he’s winning expertly at it.

It’s kind of cold here, where they’re sitting. They’re in one of Hyunwoo’s favorite cafés, in an open space where low toned conversations float like a distant murmur. The wind inches at Changkyun part by part, slices through him like running chainsaws. Sun has long disappeared around the horizon, which is good because Changkyun is a self-proclaimed night hermit.

Ten minutes later, they’re back in Hyunwoo’s fancy car. Changkyun considers this a miracle. Past him would’ve never dreamed of his ass touching the passenger seat of Hyunwoo’s car. 

They fasten their belts and Hyunwoo pulls away. His cologne drapes over them like thin silky veils.

“I never pried you for a Greek mythology geek,” Changkyun says.

“I've had my fun with it back in college. I've read The Iliad, The Odyssey and some of Rick Riordan’s books.”

“Oh wow,” Changkyun says, “I take it you’ve read The Song of Achilles then.”

“Trust me, I did.”

“Did you cry?”

“Very much.”

Changkyun smiles, his forehead resting on the glassy window. “It’s kind of annoying how some people are saying the author turned Achilles gay, when like, ancient Greece itself dictated that he and Patroclus had more than friendship going on.”

Hyunwoo’s chuckle hums throughout his body like an electric jolt. Changkyun distracts himself with the gentle pitter patter of the rain.

“You know what’s worse?” Hyunwoo asks.

“What?”

“Hollywood making them cousins in the Troy adaptation.”

Changkyun groans. “That is Hollywood’s biggest shame, straightwashing at its finest.”

It’s silent for a while.

Hyunwoo steps on the gas when the light turns green, driving through unfamiliar city blocks. Changkyun suddenly feels like crying, and he notices a little late the glassiness of his eyes, the tears that are still to slip. He tastes melancholy on his tongue, feels the heaviness wearing his flesh down, and though he senses them coming, scalding and stabbing their way out, Changkyun doesn’t bother thinking them through before he opens his mouth.

Changkyun uses his words.

“You know what’s even worse than that?”

“Hmm?”

“That I can’t have you the way I want Hyunwoo.”

The car comes to a sudden halt and Changkyun almost smashes his face into the glove box. His throat burns from where the seat belt choked him, what the hell.

A furious driver honks ceaselessly before she passes them with an angry screech of the tires.

Changkyun’s tongue feels like lead, his mouth is so dry it could work as sandpaper.

Hyunwoo refuses to look at him or talk to him until he parks by the side of an empty clearing, where it’s light enough to feel safe but dark enough for them to feel completely alone. The rain has turned to a drizzle, and if Changkyun could care enough he would most probably perceive the obscure beach waves crashing on the shore.

He grasps at the words in his brain. “I’m-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t know what got into me, please forget what I said-”

“I promised Hoseok. Well, _he_ made me promise to never make a move on you, which I fully understand. I would’ve been the same if I had a younger brother. How old are you again?”

Changkyun blinks a few seconds. “Nineteen?”

Hyunwoo grimaces, still facing ahead. “I’ll be thirty four in a few months.”

“Age is just a number.”

“Hell no, it's not, what a terrible excuse.”

Changkyun feels a searing heat of frustration at the hollow of his chest. Hyunwoo is still not looking at him. He unbuckles his seat belt and turns fully to him. “Does it really bother you that much?”

“When you were ten I was already twenty four, and I can’t stop thinking about it,” Hyunwoo says

“But now we’re both adults, so what’s the matter? It’s not like you’re forcing me or anything.”

“It’s still wrong-”

“No it’s not!” Changkyun shouts, but shame instantly floods his veins. “It’s not,” He tries again, softer this time.

Hyunwoo stays silent for a while, his gaze contemplative and far detached from their current reality. Changkyun is growing desperate, can feel the tight grip of a lump in his throat.

“Hyunwoo please, look at me,” the first tear finally slips, and then some more follow. His voice cracks. Hyunwoo turns to him like a lightning bolt.

“Oh no, no no no, don’t cry,” he takes Changkyun’s face in his hands and thumbs at the tears. Changkyun has the self control not to cry harder. “Hoseok is going to kill me for making you cry.”

Changkyun is surprised when a laugh rumbles through his chest. “You’re still his boss, he can only do so much.”

“Now, you are unfairly underestimating your brother.”

Changkyun feels his lips curling up. “How so?”

“He threatened to set my car on fire if I ever dare touch you weird. I’ve never seen him so serious.”

Changkyun can clearly see it. Hoseok has always been overprotective of him and Jooheon.

“So of course, to put his mind at ease, I had to make a promise to never see you in more than a platonic way, and now I don’t know how to repent my mistake.” Hyunwoo gets the last of Changkyun’s tears before he settles back in his seat. Changkyun is like, so damn disappointed.

“What mistake? You haven’t done anything.”

At that, Hyunwoo finally unbuckles his seat belt. Changkyun doesn’t understand it when it first happens, when Hyunwoo holds gently his hand, when Hyunwoo threads long fingers through his hair, when Hyunwoo inhales deeply and kisses him.

Hyunwoo moves just a tiny bit back, their breaths mingling together. Changkyun has some issues. He can’t feel himself breathing but that’s fine because Hyunwoo just kissed him.

Hyunwoo just-

“Ho-Holy mother fuck Jesus, Lord-”

“Do you always swear like this when you’re nervous?”

Hyunwoo’s laugh fans Changkyun’s lips. They’re just that close, and Changkyun has been nursing this crush for months, so he does what any sane person would do and presses forward to catch Hyunwoo’s lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

Changkyun feels a hand teasing his nape. Hyunwoo deepens the kiss, kisses him so hard Changkyun hears himself _moaning_. The armrest is lodged painfully into his side. Changkyun is sure he’ll get a deep dent there.

He grasps Hyunwoo’s shoulder by one hand and presses his face into Hyunwoo’s neck, inhales oak moss and mint.

Changkyun pants his lungs out. He feels like he just escaped both Charybdis’ pull and Scylla’s snappy mouths. His heart is about to burst.

Hyunwoo puts a comforting hand on his back and speaks low by his ear. “Are you sure it’s okay? Fourteen years are marked between us, it’s not easy.”

“Does talking to me make you feel uncomfortable? Do I come across as immature, childish?”

“No, not at all. Never enjoyed talking to someone this much before. I think you have a brilliant mind, It’s so _attractive_. You’re so attractive Changkyun.”

Changkyun’s heart weeps for him, tears of happiness of course, so physically, he just giggles, leans his head up to peer into Hyunwoo’s eyes, says, “Please, kiss me again,” and lets Hyunwoo pull him in his arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *sipping my tea in peace*  
> showkyun: surprise bitch, i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me  
> me:  
> me: *reaches for laptop*


	2. so don't go, just stay

✦✧✦

 

Changkyun feels; _distress, anxiety, prick of needles in his intestines._

Changkyun thinks; _this is what trials must be like_.

In retrospect, Changkyun should’ve known this was going to happen. Leaving his phone on the coffee table was his mistake. Leaving his phone with Hoseok lurking in the house was reckless on his part.

His shitty choices are stacking one upon another. Changkyun could write a book about his poor life choices and the work count would most probably hit the 500K threshold, yet there would still be more to divulge about all those times things went haywire because of his incapacity to work in his mind and pick the right thing.

Hoseok had been in the living room the same moment his phone pinged with a received message from Hyunwoo. Hoseok saw it, Hoseok read it. The message hadn’t even sported filthy BDSM-ish suggestions and the like.

The message went along the lines of: _miss you, love you, meet you later_. 

Innocent, right?

Hoseok thinks not.

And now Changkyun hugs his legs, rests his chin on his knees and watches Hoseok pacing about the living room.

“You will bring forth my early death, that’s what you will do, and I won’t rest in peace, oh no, I’ll make sure to come back and haunt this house and scream in your ears how bloody stupid you are.” Hoseok is furious. Changkyun shrinks further into himself.

“Am I excluded from the narrative?” Jooheon asks. He’s sitting on the other side of the sofa, with a bowl of popcorn on his lap and the remote in his hand. Changkyun is not jealous.

“You’re safe,” Hoseok says.

“Thank God.” Jooheon pops some popcorn in his mouth and switches channels.

“Let me just explain,” Changkyun tries but flinches at the scowl, at the furrowed brows and the piercing gaze. If he thought he fucked up before, this time he feels like he just deliberately threw himself in a minefield and he is about to blow up, or die from fear.

“I was the one who confessed first, I was the one who tried to get closer first, we have similar interests and we have great chemistry, can’t you see brother?”

“He’s thirty three!”

“And what of it?”

Hoseok scoffs. Jooheon is now watching them, the TV forgotten. He’s still eating his popcorn.

Changkyun thinks of another tactic. Hoseok is one sensitive empathetic soul. His range of emotions is wide, and usually, fluffy small bunnies have him bawling his eyeballs out from their overall cuteness. Changkyun moves his legs down, crosses his arms over his chest and widens his eyes. The ultimate puppy eyes. The lethal weapon against Hoseok’s wrath. Changkyun sees him faltering, his scowl bleeding from his face.

“I’m happy brother, really _really_ happy with Hyunwoo. He’s kind and keeps me safe, shares some of my weirdest hobbies and gives me actual adult advice, God knows how much I need it. He was just like you at first, hesitant about this whole dating thing, and I had to work for it, I had to convince him hard to give me a chance, and so he did and now we’re here. I’m so sorry I kept this from you, Hoseokkie.”

Hoseok’s expression is blank for thirty seconds. Changkyun vaguely hears Jooheon excitedly chanting _‘plot twist, plot twist’_ , but all the chakra coming from Changkyun’s solar plexus is focused on keeping his lethal weapon up, or else he’ll lose the battle and crumble.

Hoseok sighs then, walks the distance to sit beside Changkyun.

Changkyun flings his body on Hoseok, and hugs him until he hears a painful crack of joints.

“Of course I’m happy for you,” Hoseok says, “you’re my baby brother, my sunshine boy, my small clumsy kitten. How can I not be happy for you?”

“I thought you said _I_ was your sunshine boy,” Jooheon whines, pouty lips that promise the sulkiness both of them are already dreading. Hoseok quickly grabs Jooheon by the waist, the empty bowl now clattering to the carpeted floor, and drags him in to his side.

“You’re both my sunshine boys, my precious adorable sunshine boys, I’ll give up the world for you.” Hoseok hugs them brutally tight with his thick biceps.

“Happy now? You got him all sappy,” Changkyun manages to wheeze out. His lungs, his poor lungs, he can’t breathe.

“That’s on you asshole, you started it, you summoned the puppy eyes when you already knew that’s one of Hoseok’s weaknesses. Shut your face, deal with the consequences.”

“Do you have to steal the attention every second of the day, is that it? Is that your job?”

“Now now children,” Hoseok squeezes them impossibly harder, which effortlessly shuts them up, “we’re having a moment and you’re ruining it. Be quiet and hug me back."

“Yes sir,” Jooheon and Changkyun say in unison.

Hoseok’s contagious laugh rattles the air molecules. Changkyun keeps laughing until he almost pees himself.

 

 

Sometime after 10 p.m, Changkyun receives a message.

 

 **hyunwoo**  
Hoseok spoke to me this morning at work.  
He congratulated me.  
Told me if I ever dare hurt you, he’ll burn down my house.  
Then smiled at me.  
Clapped me on the back.  
And left.  
Did something happen?

 

 **changkyun**  
what’s with him and burning things? jesus  
he found out about us  
i’m sorry  
i couldn’t tell you sooner  
i really wanted to keep this a secret  
:’((

 

 **hyunwoo**  
I’m actually glad he knows.  
I never wanted to keep this a secret.  
It wouldn’t be fair to him.  
Are you okay though?  
I hope this wasn’t too emotionally draining for you.

 

 **changkyun**  
i’ll be okay once i see you this sunday  
i miss you hyunwoo ♥

 

 **hyunwoo**  
I miss you too baby.  
It’s only three more days.

 

 **changkyun**  
sundays have never seemed brighter

 

 

 

Changkyun claims his seat on the floorboards by the crackling wood of the hearth and shoves his face into the swirling waves of heat. He’s a frozen piece of marble; he can’t feel his fingers and his veins press protruding dark and blue onto the surface of his skin. He quivers in a 8.2 magnitude on Richter Scale.

“Close the door, hurry hurry hurry, Hyunwooo,” he whines and shifts closer to the hearth. His butt is freezing.

Hyunwoo balances two grocery bags in one arm and hurries to shut the door after him. He’s wearing khaki pants, a dress shirt and his skin. That’s all. That’s all he’s wearing. A flimsy piece of clothing with undone buttons and Hyunwoo has the audacity to look unbothered by the howling beasty winds that threaten to snap Changkyun’s back in half.

“I can’t believe you. I seriously, honestly, on the name of Jesus, cannot believe you,” Changkyun says in a loud voice so that Hyunwoo can hear him from the kitchen. He can’t still his bones, but the heat is slowly merging with his blood, working its way in the inhabited caverns lodged inside his sternum.

He hears the clatter of wood cabinets, the whining from the fridge’s hinges. Hyunwoo emerges again into the living room and grabs a blanket from the sofa.

“Are you a lycanthrope?” Changkyun asks him, still perched by the hearth with arms hugging knees.

Hyunwoo’s expression is relaxed, his tiny smile betraying his amusement. He wraps the blanket around Changkyun’s trembling frame, sits behind him and pulls him to his chest.

“If you want me to be your lycanthrope, then I can be your lycanthrope.” He rests his chin on Changkyun’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

Changkyun retreats to his inner world and commands his heart to beat a bit slower; it’s growing at the speed of a frantic hummingbird in flight.

“I’m not a monsters fucker, sorry,” Changkyun says.

“You were watching Venom the other day,” Hyunwoo informs him.

“That means nothing, it’s just a really good movie.”

“I caught you looking up fan art.”

“People are talented, I appreciate art in all its forms.”

“They were not safe for work fan arts.”

Changkyun makes a small desperate sound, and when Hyunwoo chuckles into his shoulder, he shivers again but for a whole different reason. His body is so warm now, the howling winds feel like an ancient memory. Hyunwoo’s lock is tight and secure around his midriff. They probably shouldn’t be sitting this close to the flaming logs, Changkyun figures, but the world could be at the hinges of its tragic demise and Changkyun wouldn’t move an inch.

Sundays were supposed to be _cramming assignments and bubble baths with Jooheon_ days. Some plot development occurred here and there ( _“I have a boyfriend! Suck it Jooney,”_ Changkyun announced cheerfully. Jooheon rolled his eyes, _“This is single lives slander and I won’t stand for it.”)_

Now Changkyun spends every Sunday with Hyunwoo, which he considers his greatest upgrade yet. By force of law, he still takes his bubbly baths with Jooheon on Wednesdays. His brother can get so sulky, which is adorable in its own right, but also quite annoying. Never will he forget the time Jooheon didn’t speak to him for a whole ass week because he failed to show up to their movie date.

So, Rosemary and scented candles baths with Jooheon on Wednesdays it is, essays and school shit on Saturdays, and dates with Hyunwoo on Sundays. Hoseok is also now perfectly accepting of their relationship. Very neat. Changkyun is so happy, he feels like he can swallow the flames raw and be content with combusting.

He startles when Hyunwoo slides some few inches backwards and grabs his waist to pull him back with him.

Changkyun takes Hyunwoo’s left hand. “You have such big hands, how?”

“Genes?”

Changkyun hums, non committal. He twines their fingers together and squeezes. “It is said those with big hands have big hearts.”

“Umm, who says so?” Hyunwoo nuzzles his neck. Goosebumps rush to Changkyun’s skin.

“Me.”

“Well, that’s a valid source. I’ll take it.”

Changkyun turns just a fraction, which is enough. He kisses the side of Hyunwoo’s mouth, and then bites him playfully. “You taste delicious.”

Hyunwoo smiles. “I taste human.”

Changkyun launches up, presses his lips to Hyunwoo’s for no more than five seconds and quickly reverts to his hunched position. Hyunwoo breathes out _‘tease’_ , and when he stands, he grabs Changkyun by the arms and lifts him up. The blanket slips to the floor and Hyunwoo kisses Changkyun into the wall, big hands running up and down his sides, kisses him until Changkyun comes out gasping for air.

“Remind me to always tease you,” Changkyun says. He leaves fairy light kisses on Hyunwoo’s throat, half-contemplates buttoning up Hyunwoo’s dress shirt, it’s still very cold in the house, but the thought slips his mind when he feels fingers twisting in his hair.

“Think you can carry me?” Changkyun asks.

“I can try.”

Changkyun lets out a giggle. He jumps up then pretends to be shocked when Hyunwoo catches his knees and secures him in his hold. Hyunwoo can’t help cracking a smile.

“You’re hardly struggling,” Changkyun says.

“And you hardly weight anything, do you even eat young man?”

Changkyun considers his answer. “Your love keeps me full, I need food no more.” He kisses between Hyunwoo’s brows, his cheeks, his chin, his mouth.

“Okay, so maybe I should confiscate you from Hoseok,” Hyunwoo says and walks the few steps to the sofa.

The sofa is large. It supports both their weight with no discomfort induced. Hyunwoo kisses like he looks, kisses like he talks, sweet at first with utmost care, with undeniable gentleness that makes Changkyun want to run to the forest and befriend magpies and inchworms, befriend hellebores and hug trees for standing ancient and tall. He’s so overwhelmed he feels the need to give love back and let it spread in earnest like infested tiny corners. The sweet grows heavy, kind of fervent. Changkyun shivers at the feel of fingers tracing along his waistband. He lets a soft noise and clutches Hyunwoo’s shirt tight when he feels teeth grazing along his juncture.

Changkyun imagines himself drugged and intoxicated, stung with oxytocin and endorphin. His heart shrinks deep in his ribcage, gives in, pops through his chest like a tightly pulled Guqin string.

Hyunwoo’s knee accidently slips forward, brushing his high inner thigh. Changkyun’s breath hitches, shocked, and he almost immediately clamps his legs closed, trapping Hyunwoo’s knee.

Hyunwoo pauses and props himself up, cheeks flushed, stunned.

“Wha-”

“Don’t move don’t move don’t move, oh God,” Changkyun says, choked up. There’s a tremor somewhere deep in his abdomen, something breathing fire in him, tight and strained. Changkyun’s thighs convulse, their hold growing weak.

Hyunwoo kisses him again, slower, softer, tugs at his lower lip. “Too much?” he mumbles, scatters light kisses on Changkyun’s jaw, puts his lips over Changkyun’s pulsing vein.

Changkyun gives a weak nod, but when Hyunwoo tries to move off him, Changkyun fumbles to grab his shirt and initiate another kiss.

“I’m very sensitive, but I also like a challenge,” he says through his delirious mind. He’s fairly certain some part of him will come to resent him for this, for ignoring his limits and speeding through, but Hyunwoo is gentle, Hyunwoo is _warmth_ personified. Hyunwoo won’t let him slip on steep hills; he will guide him through and through and hold him tight in his blinded state.

Changkyun feels Hyunwoo smiling against his skin, body pressing him deeper into the sofa, the kind of pressure that’ll leave his muscles sore after, in a good way though, but he’ll still whine to Hyunwoo, about the soreness and the hickeys and the red marks, about his heart that has grown three times its size, and Hyunwoo will be flushed and endeared, picking him in his arms again, and maybe giving him more hickeys.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are so precious, your comments are nations' treasure,  
> thank you ♡♡♡


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